


Redo

by ashinan



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, Random Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-11
Updated: 2012-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-07 12:43:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinan/pseuds/ashinan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Last time I did that, I had to drive a plane into the water.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Redo

**Author's Note:**

> In response to a rant on tumblr about Steve and Tony necking in cars. So. Necking in a car. HEE.

Tony hates leather. Well, no, okay, he is actually quite fond of leather when the quality is sublime and malleable, but the colour scheme he ordered, as well as the actual tanning of the hide, is all off. Especially for the car he has been working on for the last two (?) days. He’ll have to call Pepper. Or the leather company. Or, hell, he could buy a goddamn cow and make it himself. No, wait, bad idea.

Squirming his way into the backseat, he digs around under the seat, searching for the wrench he  _knows_  he dropped because Dummy had brought him the goddamn blender again. He almost falls over as the side door beeps open, his music halting with an undignified screech. Popping his head up, he grins as Steve makes his way past the holograms Tony has scattered about, fingers moving them away like they’re actual physical manifestations. Tony gets a kick out of it every time. 

“What can I do for you, Cap?” Tony asks, ducking back down to search for that elusive wrench. The leather _squeaks_ as he flops around and his fingers light on metal.  _Gotcha_.

When he sits back up, Steve is leaning over the side of the car, his brows furrowed forty six degrees, and that’s almost a full fledged frown, what did Tony do now? He looks down at himself, at the grease over his arms, at the wrench silver in his hand, and looks back up again. Steve’s face has resolved into combat determination and before Tony can ask what the hell, Steve grabs him and hauls him forward.

The kiss is fierce and desperate and feels like goodbye, all wrapped up in a mess of lips and tongue. Tony shifts, tries to get a better angle, and then they’re slotted together, Steve humming in surprise and Tony trying to coax him into something slower. It doesn’t work how he wants it to, but it calms the desperation to something more enjoyable. More lingering.

They pull apart and Tony is left blinking up like he’s just gone three rounds with Dummy and his blender, fingers still tight around the wrench and his other hand tucked neat behind Steve’s neck. Steve lets him go, eyes bright with remembrance and Tony wants to ask, he really,  _really_ , does, but that eight swimming in the downturn of Steve’s lips stalls him. He waits him out until Steve takes in a breath.

“Last time I did that, I had to drive a plane into the water.”

And that’s it. It clicks, like something half forgotten, and Tony tugs on Steve’s neck until they’re almost touching, until every word Tony speaks brushes against Steve’s lips.

“The leather sucks, but I’m sure we can get in a few good rounds before I have to slaughter another cow,” Tony says. Steve chokes, laughter bumping up against Tony’s mouth, and then they’re kissing again.

It’s just a bonus that after they’re done the leather is exactly how Tony wanted it. 


End file.
